


New Home, Healed Heart

by Set_Suna



Series: What We Do Between the Shelves - Dream SMP Grocery AU Fics [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Dream SMP Grocery AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, No Beta We Die Like Wilbur in Skyblockle, its not bad I swear its just a little thing fhs, parental neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28715412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Set_Suna/pseuds/Set_Suna
Summary: His apartment was quiet, other than the sound of running water. He had no company. There was no music or random Youtube video or TV channel on in the background. He’d been working in complete silence, left alone with his thoughts. Wasn’t that strange? Fundy never heard of a situation where someone was left to move house on their own. They usually had friends or family around to help out. He knew he definitely didn’t have one of those things.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Everyone, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot
Series: What We Do Between the Shelves - Dream SMP Grocery AU Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184690
Comments: 18
Kudos: 287
Collections: Dream SMP Grocery Store AU





	New Home, Healed Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [getouttamyswamp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/getouttamyswamp/gifts).
  * Inspired by [DreamSMP Grocery Store AU headcannons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28393056) by [getouttamyswamp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/getouttamyswamp/pseuds/getouttamyswamp). 



> listen we've been talking about the grocery au in the discord and it's already been giving me brain rot. there's just so much good content potential here and I'm living for it

Home was a lot of things Fundy didn’t understand. There were these warm feelings and a place of belonging people talked about. They all had fond memories with their families and stories to tell, but Fundy never really had any of that. His family took care of him, sure. They made sure he had food and that his clothes fit and when he asked politely enough, they got him things he wanted. They weren’t ever really… present. 

They were always gone when he woke up for school. When he got home from school or work, there was no “welcome home” or food waiting for him. His parents pretty much ignored him. He found whatever was leftover in the fridge, warmed it up, and ate in his room, hating the silence of the kitchen. They left him reminders when they would leave to do dishes or wash the laundry or that he’d have to fend for himself tonight. Nights spent in his quiet house with a cold sandwich or microwave mac n’ cheese were probably the worst. 

Fundy dropped the last box of his things on the floor, standing straight and wiping the sweat from his forehead. That was the last box. All of his things were moved out of his parents’ house. He finally got out.

His job at the grocery store was one of the better things in his life. Ever since he graduated high school, he’d been working two jobs. He mainly worked at the grocery store and took coding jobs in his spare time. That’s one thing he was able to get from his parents: a good computer. He used it to save enough money to buy his own apartment and just leave it all behind. 

Everything needed unpacked and set up. Literally _everything_. He needed to go out and buy food to get him by until his paycheck on Friday. He’d already taken the day off to move his things and build what little furniture he could buy. This was going to be a long day. 

Dumping out the contents of a box containing all his new desk pieces, he got to work. He quickly realized he had no idea how to start. Sifting through pages with the vaguest instructions possible and pulling too many wrong tools from the toolbox Phil had gifted him, he finally found a starting point. 

His parents had barely contributed to his new apartment endeavor. They supported him moving out and living his own life, but didn’t want to help more than necessary. It’s not like Fundy didn’t expect it, they were never very charitable. Maybe he had hoped for more than a cheap couch and a mattress. Maybe it would have been nice if they had stayed to help him unpack instead of leaving as soon as all of his things were out of the car. Maybe he could’ve had hope that his parents actually cared for him in some way, even though he knew they never really loved him.

Fundy pricked his thumb with a screwdriver, pulling it back with a hiss. He watched blood build at the puncture. His vision blurred with oncoming tears, but he rubbed them away quickly. Bandaid. He needed a bandaid. He had a first aid kit somewhere around here. Wilbur made sure he had one. He texted him all day to make sure he wouldn’t forget. 

He left the small living room, venturing into the kitchen and opening each empty cupboard until he found the one with things inside. He pulled out the small box, awkwardly forcing open the latches with one good thumb. He rummaged around until he dug out the right size bandaid. He moved to wash the blood from his thumb, temporarily mesmerized by the water running over the small hole in his skin. 

His apartment was quiet, other than the sound of running water. He had no company. There was no music or random Youtube video or TV channel on in the background. He’d been working in complete silence, left alone with his thoughts. Wasn’t that strange? Fundy never heard of a situation where someone was left to move house on their own. They usually had friends or family around to help out. He knew he definitely didn’t have one of those things. 

The buzzing of his phone on the counter shocked him awake. He quickly turned off the water and answered the call, not even thinking to check who it was from. 

“Hello?” he asked, cringing when he heard his voice crack. 

He fumbled with the bandaid as Wilbur’s voice cheered loudly, “Hey, Fundy! How are things?”

“It’s-It’s going alright. Why? Aren’t you at work?” Fundy questioned, finally peeling away the paper and angling the bandaid against his skin. 

“Yeah, but a lot of us get off in an hour, and I wanted to ask before barging in if it was okay if we came over to see your new place?” Wilbur questioned hopefully. 

Fundy took a quick look around. Nothing would be different in an hour. Maybe he’d have his desk put together. 

“It’s not really pretty, but I don't see why not,” he agreed. 

“Awesome! Pizza sound all right to you?” Wilbur continued. 

Fundy didn’t really get it. Was this pity? Was this Wilbur seeing how poor Fundy’s situation was and feeling obligated to help? Either way, his empty fridge and cabinets held a lot of sway, and Fundy didn’t just want to tell Wilbur ‘no’. 

“Yeah, uh, sounds good,” Fundy answered, mouth dry. 

“Okay, I’ll see you later, then. Take care!” Wilbur said, enthusiasm making him feel sick.

“See you later,” he managed weakly. 

He hung up quickly. Cups. He had those. He bought some cheap plastic ones from the store after his shift once. They were in… one of the boxes. He stumbled around his kitchen counter. He opened each box, digging around until he finally found the right one. He fished one out and hurried back to the kitchen, fighting the nausea overtaking him. He filled the glass halfway with water and downed it in seconds. He heaved a breath. He needed a second. He needed to chill out. 

It didn’t make sense. There was the toolbox, the first aid kit, this call promising company and pizza… What did Fundy do to deserve it? Why were people being kind to him? His parents ignored him all his life. They never went out of their way to be loving or kind. They never told him they were proud or that they wanted something from him. They never expected _anything_ from him. It was like he didn’t exist. When Fundy aced tests or earned his first paycheck, his parents weren’t excited. They were indifferent. He never exceeded their expectations, because they never had any for him in the first place. 

He downed another cup of water. He wasn’t sure if his hands were shaking, if tears threatened to spill over, or both. It didn’t matter, anyways. He had a desk to finish putting together. Then he could work on the mattress frame. Maybe he wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch tonight. 

Fundy continued to work in silence, occasionally feeling a sting of pain from his thumb when he pressured the tender skin too much. Still, through an unfocused haze, he managed to finish the desk. It didn’t immediately fall apart when he pushed down on the top with his hands, so he considered that a success. He left the finished product in the living room and went to get started on the bed frame. 

There was another strange thing. His new bedroom was empty, besides the mattress leaning up against the wall and the parts to the bed frame scattered about. His computer and some boxes of clothes were shoved against the wall, too, but that was the only sign someone was actually going to be living here. 

How did you make a space feel like home? He didn’t think he knew how. 

A knock on the door stopped him before he could start. He rubbed at his eyes again. Must be Wilbur and the others. He hurried into the hallway, throwing open the door and feeling his heart stop beating for the briefest of seconds. 

It was Wilbur who stood at his door, surrounded by a lot more people than he expected. Not that it was a bad thing, he just didn’t expect this many people to care. Phil, Techno, Tommy, Tubbo, Niki, and Ranboo stood behind him, all carrying varying amounts of things.

“Hey, Fundy!” Tubbo greeted, head poking out from behind a stack of pizza boxes. 

“Hope it’s not too many people?” Wilbur said, grinning sheepishly. 

“No-No it’s fine, it’s just-” Fundy struggled to find words. “I have _nothing_ unpacked.” 

“Don’t worry, that’s why we brought utensils,” Phil told him, shaking the plastic bag he was carrying. 

Stunned, Fundy moved out of the way to let the crowd of people into his apartment. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo immediately dug into the pizza. Wilbur and Techno started unloading the mass of things they’d brought. Phil and Niki started to shift things around in the living room, essentially making a dinner table out of cardboard boxes. Fundy stood in the hallway, watching his new home be broken in faster than a kid cracking a glow stick. 

He finally ventured into the kitchen, replacing Techno as he went to deliver drinks to the people in the living room. He stood next to Wilbur behind the counter, staring at the warm and lively place his apartment was now. 

“How?” he asked incredulously. “ _Why?_ ”

“When the others figured out you’d moved, they all wanted to pitch in,” Wilbur answered. “Check the fridge.” 

He stared at Wilbur, slightly horrified, but did so. He opened it slowly, feeling his heart jump into his throat when he saw the shelves were no longer empty.

Wil leaned over his shoulder, pointing out different products. “There’s fruits and veggies from produce, some meat and shit from deli, Dream and them pitched in for some beverages and some other necessities. Niki and Tubbo brought some fresh bread and cookies. Front end insisted on getting three types of salsa, tortilla chips, and a six pack of Monster only, for whatever reason. Either way, everyone was thinking of you today.” 

Fundy closed his fridge, gripping the handle tightly with both hands. He stared at his hands as he stuttered, “I-I don’t understand. Why-Why would everyone do something so nice for me?” 

“Because we care about you, Fundy,” Wilbur said simply, laughing like it was obvious. “Doing all this alone would be awful. I, for one, would never leave a friend to do this alone.” 

Fundy inhaled sharply. _A friend._ He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Wilbur’s chest. He felt the man sigh before hugging Fundy right back. He didn’t realize how badly he’d wanted this. Everything he felt about his parents piled and piled until it crushed him under its weight. Just knowing he had friends who cared and would come to his aid even when he didn’t ask made things seem even just a little bit better, a bit more tolerable. 

“Thank you,” he said through tears. 

He felt Wilbur press his cheek to the top of his head, his hands rubbing his back comfortingly. “It’s no problem. If you ever need anything, you know you can call me.” 

Fundy nodded into Wilbur’s shoulder. He didn’t cry for long, there wasn’t any point when so many people wanted him to be happy. They joined the others around the cardboard box table, and Fundy immediately realized how hungry he was. He one hundred percent ate half a pizza on his own. But once they were all done and cleaned up, the real work began. 

He set up his PC on his new desk with Tubbo’s help. Phil and Wilbur worked on his bed frame. Tommy and Techno raced to see who could put away his silverware the fastest. Ranboo and Niki organized the rest of his things into piles, sorting by where they belonged. He had his dresser built and clothes put away and cupboards organized in the span of two hours. 

Fundy collapsed on a made bed that night, phone pinging with unread notifications from friends. He could read them in the morning. He knew they’d still be there. He fell asleep easily in his new apartment, swiftly made into a new home thanks to the care of so many people who loved him as much as he loved them.

**Author's Note:**

> Please go check out the inspired fic to see literally everything about this au if you're interested it's amazing
> 
> I appreciate any and all comments/kudos/bookmarks you choose to leave! 
> 
> You can follow my [tumblr](https://quibbels.tumblr.com/) for fic updates and my [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/quiblii) to see more stuff from me!


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